Parallel
by Aria Marier
Summary: What would happen if Utena missed her calling, but came to Ohtori and fell under the spell of the Black Rose? One-shot. Reviews Please!


Aria: My first Utena-only fic! Please be gentle! What if Utena had never been a Rose Duelist? What if her meeting with Dios hadn't happened in quite the usual way? What would happen when she went to Ohtori? One-shot. Enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Shoujo Kakumei Utena, although I would very much like to get better acquainted with Touga...  
  
PARALLEL  
  
*Prologue*  
  
A shudder, a clank. They move downwards at a surprising, rusty, speed.  
  
~Please begin. ~  
"I came to Ohtori a month ago...transferred from my old school. The first person I saw here was her...standing outside the rose garden with Saionji-san. He hit her. I was angry, but Wakaba distracted me. I keep seeing her around...  
  
There's something about her I can't explain---she's never looked at me, except to look through me---she spends her life behind the glass of the rose garden. If only I had never seen her! If only I had never come here...why am I here? I shouldn't be here!"  
  
~Deeper. Go deeper. ~  
  
"What right does she have to capture me like this? What right does she have to go through my dreams like this?  
  
"Witch. She's a witch. She's enchanted me---not just me. The Council. Kiryuu Touga...I thought he would escape her, but he can't. He doesn't want to. He wants only her...they all want only her...I want only her..."  
  
A sob.   
  
A tear, sizzling on clasped hands. The knuckles tighten, whiten. Silky pink hair floods over hunched shoulders.  
  
Faster.  
  
~Deeper. ~  
  
"You have to help me...tell me how to escape her. Tell me how to escape the witch! TELL ME!"  
  
A shudder, a screeching, sighing halt. She is jolted from her precarious seat, thrown against the mirror before her. A rose falls softly on the floor behind her, gently shedding pale pink petals.  
  
"I understand." His voice is soothing, smooth and cool. It slides over her burning skin as she sobs into the fogging glass.  
  
"Your only choice is to bring the world revolution."  
  
The sobs pause, hesitate. Her head lifts.   
  
"Revolution?"  
  
He lays a warm hand on her shoulder and she looks around at him, tear-streaks running down her delicate cheeks.  
  
"The way has been prepared before you. Come with me."  
  
She walks with him into the damp dark, keeping her eyes locked on the glowing pale pink of his hair as he leads her deeper and deeper into the ---tomb---dark. She whispers, her voice echoing gently in the shadows.  
  
"What is this place?"  
  
His voice comes whispering to her, soft and comforting. "It is a tomb...one hundred Duelists were burned alive here. Their memory has saturated the building...it is sacred ground." Ahead, she can see pale light gleaming, and her eyes eagerly go to it, hungry for a glimpse of color and life. It glimmers down onto a delicate glass case, filled halfway with glowing water. A single black rose stands perched in the center, water rippling outwards from it in gleaming circles.   
  
She reaches out to touch the glass as he moved behind her, a steady presence, and as her long pale fingers touch the silky glass, he places his hands on her shoulders, a small smile on his face. Tenderly, he strokes her gleaming hair.  
  
"Together, we will destroy the Rose Bride and her Prince." She nods, her eyes drawn to the blackness of the rose before her.  
  
A slender hand reaches in and plucks the rose---she looks up, into dark, almost-innocent eyes. Lavender hair glows softly against golden skin; she watches, fascinated, as the boy before her lifts up the black rose, touches its petals gently. He reaches across, offers it to her.  
  
"You have been chosen by my black rose." ***  
*Duel*  
  
His long, thin, delicate fingers reached into the locker, and found the flat envelope taped to the smooth metal. Almost lazily, he ripped it off, and brought it out into the light, brushing long red hair back out of his face. A blank envelope of thick, creamy paper, and he ripped it open curiously, held the letter up to the light, and smiled with something like satisfaction. Deep blue eyes looked up, and around, into smiling, glass-covered green.   
He smiled at her, running his hand fondly over her vibrant violet hair, admiring the thickness, the softness of it. She smiled up at him.  
  
"Get ready, Anthy," he told her. "We duel today."  
  
***  
  
The dueling arena lay flat and glowing in the mid-afternoon heat. Touga looked around curiously. The desks which had appeared there for the last few duels weren't there any longer...instead, a single candle stood flickering at the very center of the arena in a bronze holder, the dying light of sunset falling against the polished brass and melting into the white wax. He looked over at Anthy, who stood quietly, her dress moving gently in the warm, rose-scented breeze, her hands folded demurely before her small waist. His hair tossed in the growing breeze as he turned around and around, looking for the challenger.  
  
The candle flared.  
  
"Kiryuu Touga," a voice came ringing out across the arena, behind him. He turned.  
  
Color had disappeared from her---her skin was pale, translucent, her uniform black, blacker than shadow and blacker than night---but blackest of all was the rose that nestled on her breast, catching the fall of silky hair that flooded over her shoulder.   
  
"Tenjou Utena..." he sighed, then started, surprised. Who?  
  
His eyes caught a flicker of graceful movement, and he watched as a young boy detached himself from her shadow and moved to stand before her, leaning against her taller form. His violet-white hair caught the warm light and cooled it as she put an arm protectively around his neck, holding him close to her.  
  
Touga's heart twisted.  
  
She spoke. "Mamiya will be Rose Bride. I will give him eternity, after I defeat you and kill the witch!"   
  
Behind him, he thought he felt Anthy shudder before growing quiet.  
  
She bent her beautiful head to the delicate ear of the boy, and whispered into it, her warm breath flooding across his cool skin.  
  
"Mamiya. The sword."  
  
He watched, oddly enthralled as she ran her hand lovingly down the boy's chest, watched as Mamiya bent, gasping, how a darkness flooded them and then formed itself, glimmering, into a single steel blade that banished light and whipped sharply through the air. Utena stood proudly behind her Rose Bride, and watched, her hair flowing in the breeze around her and Mamiya and the sword she held, as Touga bent down, pressed a light kiss on the mouth of the Rose Bride and drew the Sword of Dios from her breast.  
  
She raised the dark sword in a salute, and he bowed in return, before launching himself into battle.  
  
The gleaming foils clashed, shivered with shock waves that fled to the handle of each straining blade. They broke apart and circled each other warily; leather bound grips warm and slippery with sweat and exertion. He panted with effort as he parried and attacked, her eyes glowed with fury and exhaustion as they fought their way around the arena, the candle flickering in the middle and the two silent Rose Brides at either end.  
  
From the Student Council tower, two figures watched in companionable silence, wind tossing light pink hair and flowing through thick white hair.   
  
"Does it really matter who wins?" Mikage asked with calm curiosity, and his companion shrugged gracefully.   
  
"In the grand scheme of things, no, it doesn't. After all, the Rose Bride is already dead." He locked his hands behind his head and leaned back with a smile.  
  
"And isn't that eternity?" 


End file.
